


Hurt

by Georgiathewholedaythrough



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 11:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3608961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Georgiathewholedaythrough/pseuds/Georgiathewholedaythrough
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "hurt!Aramis and freaking out!Porthos. Or hurt!Aramis and comforting!Porthos. Or both :)"</p>
<p>As always comments and feedback feed my soul :)<br/>Apologies for the title, I just couldn't think of anything and yeah :/</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurt

It was his fault. Aramis was badly injured and it was entirely his fault. He should have stayed by Aramis’ side whilst they were on the battle-field, it shouldn’t have mattered that they had had a heated argument prior to being called on this mission. Aramis was his lover, yes, but he was also his comrade in arms and he should have never allowed his personal feelings to interfere with the duty that he had; which was to protect him during danger. 

Porthos hadn’t realised that Aramis was injured, he doubted even Aramis himself had known he was seriously injured, until evening had come. Porthos had retired to his room to rest, he hadn’t slept well the previous night and his body was stiff from the fighting he had just done, when there was a loud and unrelenting knock on his door.   
When he went to open the door and found Athos standing there, looking frantic – which was in itself a rarity, he instantly felt a wash of dread flow over him. 

“It’s Aramis.” Athos didn’t even have to say anything more and Porthos was already out of the door and making his way towards his friends’ room. 

Once Porthos had reached Aramis’ bed quarters, Athos trailing behind him, D’artagnan who was sitting outside instantly stood up and held up his arm to keep Porthos from entering the room. 

Porthos shot him such a look that under any other circumstance would have the poor boy relenting, but not right now. 

“The doctor is with him now, he asked that no one disturb him whilst he work” he explained.

Porthos’ composure slipped a bit and he turned to face Athos who was now wearing a calm composure, but it was obvious that he was anything but calm inside.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked in a low voice, his tone fearful.

“It seems as if Aramis took quite a heavy blow to his chest during the fight this morning; shortly after we got back he was complaining of shortness of breath, I don’t think he realised how serious it was” Athos paused as if deliberating his next words carefully “I… I came in to check on him and he was sitting on the edge of his bed slumped over, struggling to breathe”

Porthos opened his mouth to speak but found that the words weren’t coming out. After clearing his throat he tried again “Why didn’t he tell me, he should’ve told me”

“You weren’t here” D’artagnan stated simply. 

Porthos spun round to face him, eyes blazing with fury. Before he had even realised he had D’artagnan pinned against the wall, his hands holding onto the poor lad’s lapels. 

“Porthos!” Athos yelled, moving swiftly so that he could get in between the two of them. 

D’artagnan’s eyes went wide and he instantly tried to backtrack on his statement.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Porthos. It’s just you weren’t here and Aramis told us not to get you, he said that it was probably nothing and that--” D’artagnan trailed off when he noticed the look Athos was giving him, which was a ‘don’t you dare say anything else’ look. 

Porthos of course noticed the silent exchange between the two and narrowed his eyes.

“What else did he say?” he growled out questioningly.

At D’artagnan’s silence Porthos grew more and more frustrated.

“D’artagnan!” Porthos bellowed.

“He said that he didn’t want you to hate him anymore than you did” 

Porthos took a few steps as if he had been struck. He was going to hit something, he so badly wanted to hit something; was that really what Aramis had thought? Was that really how little Aramis thought he cared for him. 

“He probably didn’t mean it” Athos said in a reassuring voice, as if he could read Porthos’ mind. 

Just then the door to Aramis’ room opened and the doctor came out. 

“He’s steady. I’ve given him a concoction to ease the pain when he wakes, make sure to give him two drops of that. He’ll be in quite a bit of pain, but other than that he should be fully healed in a few weeks’ time. There’s nothing much we can do now but let it heal, just keep an eye on him and make sure he has plenty rest.” 

Athos nodded “I’ll see you out.” 

Porthos strode into the room and took a seat on the chair beside Aramis’ bed. Porthos let out a deep sigh and took hold of Aramis’ limp hand, giving it a tight squeeze.   
“I’m not leaving you” he whispered softly.   
Behind him he heard D’artagnan take a seat, and together they both waited. 

\--

Porthos didn’t know when he had fallen asleep or how long he’d fallen asleep for, one thing he did know for sure was that he was really bloody uncomfortable in the position he was currently in. 

Behind him he could hear snoring and realised that sometime during the night Athos must’ve come in because that noise surely couldn’t have come from D’artganan.  
He moved off the bed and was about to sit himself back into his chair when a groan from the bed made him freeze.

“Aramis” he asked gently, “you okay?”

Aramis opened his eyes and a weak smile claimed his lips. 

“Never been better “he replied, his voice was weak and exhausted but it made Porthos ridiculously happy to hear his voice after such a long time.

Porthos couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. He gently squeezed Aramis’ hand that was in his own before placing a kiss to the back of it.

He looked up and saw Aramis watching him with a look of such love it made him feel so guilty, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve him. 

Aramis seemed to realise the thoughts that were going on in Porthos’ head because he tugged at Porthos’ arm to force him to look at him. 

“This isn’t your fault, querido” Aramis reassured gently.

Porthos shook his head his anger rising at the quickness of Aramis’ forgiveness.

“I should’ve stayed by you during the fight yesterday, I should have made sure that you were okay afterwards. But I didn’t because I was pissed off at you over that stupid argument we had and I let that cloud my duty and I’m sorry.”

“Porthos, it’s okay” Aramis began to say, but a harsh coughing fit prevented him from doing so. 

Porthos tensed and then got on his feet to look for the glass of water, before sitting Aramis up carefully and ordering him to drink. After a few minutes the coughing abated.

“Thank you, mon amour” Aramis rasped breathlessly.

Porthos nodded, his facial expression softening.

“You should rest” he chided softly. 

Aramis looked at him unhappily but didn’t argue. Instead he tried to shift to one side of his bed, which resulted in a sharp intake of breath.

“Careful, you idiot” Porthos scolded him playfully. But watched him amusedly as he knew exactly what Aramis wanted.

“I hope you’re not waiting for an invitation.” Aramis said.

Porthos rolled his eyes with a smile on his face, before kicking off his boots and getting into the bed. He wrapped a careful arm around Aramis and pulled him close to him, letting Aramis’ head rest on his chest. It wasn’t long before the both of them drifted off into a deep sleep. 

 

\--

 

Aramis’ continuous shifting the following morning woke Porthos up.

“You okay?” He murmured sleepily. 

“My chest hurts” Aramis mumbled back. Porthos had to stifle back a laugh at the petulant way Aramis had spoken. 

“Well it would, you’ve bruised you ribs” Porthos retorted back.

“How spectacular” Aramis remarked, the sarcasm dripping from his tone.

Porthos got up from the bed to find the concoction the doctor had left; pouring a half glass of water and putting the two drops of liquid in the cup before handing it over to Aramis to take. 

It was then that he noticed Athos and D’artagnan were no longer in the room. D’artagnan had probably gone to visit Constance, and Athos had probably gone to give a report on what had happened to Treville.

Aramis sat up and pulled a disgusted face at the concoction before he swallowed it down. He handed the empty glass back to Porthos. 

“How could something made to make me better taste so utterly disgusting” 

Porthos grinned teasingly. “You’re such a child when you’re hurt.” 

Aramis chuckled but soon wished he hadn’t when another harsh coughing fit overcame him.

Porthos frowned and went to pour some more water but the coughing had stopped by the time he had finished.

“Lift yourself up” Porthos said patiently. He watched as Aramis confusedly but obeying did what he was asked. 

Porthos slipped in behind Aramis, leaning against the headboard for support, and felt relieved when seconds later Aramis had shuffled back and was resting against him. 

Porthos pressed a kiss a top of Aramis’ head. 

“How attentive you are, nurse” Aramis said teasingly.

Porthos snorted and shook his head. “If you were half as funny as you thought you were you’d be twice as funny as you actually are.”

“I have no idea what you just said.” 

“Idiot” Porthos muttered affectionately.

A comfortable silence then overcame the two lovers until the events of yesterday started weighing on Porthos’ mind again. 

“I’m sorry” he blurted out

“Porthos…”Aramis began in a warning tone.

“About our fight, I’m sorry about the things I said. I wasn’t right and it wasn’t true, I should have never said ‘em. Maybe then all this would have never happened.”  
Aramis let out a soft sigh. “If anyone is to apologise it should be me. I was tired and I was jealous and it wasn’t fair on you or your friend Phillipe-”

“Michel” Porthos interrupted 

Aramis rolled his eyes, “Phillipe, Michel, not much difference. The point is I’m sorry and I will not allow you to take the blame for what happened when it was just as much my fault as it was yours. And the sooner we can put this behind us the better”

“I approve of that” Porthos chuckled. 

When Aramis suddenly lifted himself up Porthos was about to protest, but then Aramis turned around so that he was facing him and leant forward to press a heated kiss on his lovers lips. Porthos kissed Aramis back just as heated. The kiss was wild, almost animalistic yet somehow gentle. Porthos felt the teasing flick of Aramis’ tongue on his lower lip, begging for access so he parted his lips and allowed it. When they parted for a minor break, both their chests were heaving from the impact of the kiss.

Porthos grinned before he dropped another kiss on Aramis’ lips, softer this time.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, you idiot.”

//end


End file.
